Conversations With Strangers
by AuroraKnight
Summary: When Merlin’s true nature is revealed, Arthur reacts violently to the betrayal, and Merlin’s magic forces an impromptu trip to the future.Will meeting another two men whose destiny is not so fortunate convince them to stick together and fulfill their own?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** _BBC Merlin_ and _Smallville_ are property of their respective creators, owners and rights holders.

**Author's Note:** This is the first part of a four-shot. I know it's short, but Part 2 will be published in a few days, maybe sooner. If you like this story, I ask that you review so I will know that there are people interested.

Takes place after "The Last Dragonlord."

**Prologue:**

Arthur stared at Merlin. Merlin stared at Arthur. The wizard's hand fell limply to his side as remnants of magic clung to his panicked figure. The monstrous acromantula lay still in front of them, its death hanging like an omen in the air.

Arthur unsheathed his sword and placed it at Merlin's throat, but Merlin stood still, refusing to fight back. The blade was near enough to scrape the warlock's skin, and Merlin's eyes implored Arthur to stop, to cease his attack before the magic acted of its own accord. Then it was too late. There was a flash of gold, and they were sent somewhere neither could predict.

Arthur ended up in the rich interior of a penthouse, standing in the middle of a well-furnished office, walls covered in emblems and symbols, and adorned with swords and statues. Yet, Merlin found himself standing on a gravel driveway near a yellow house, fields stretching out around him, horses and cows grazing in the distance. It resembled a farm, but no farm he'd ever seen.

A bald man entered the office the same time a dark-haired man walked down the steps of the house. Both saw the strangers and were curious. Yet, once the men began to converse, Arthur and Merlin began to realize exactly _why_ they'd been sent here: to _learn_.


	2. Choices Define Us

**Disclaimer:** _BBC Merlin_ and _Smallville_ are property of their respective creators, owners and rights holders.

**Author's Note:** This is the second part of a four-shot. I should warn you that I have referenced the prophecy of Sageeth and Naman in the context of Season 3 of Smallville. I realize it has been later suggested but not confirmed that it pertains to Davis Bloome, but that still doesn't explain why the dagger would have disintegrated in Lex's hand. So I stand with the idea that it's about Lex and Clark.

If you have no idea what I'm talking about above, don't worry, it won't affect your reading.

**Chapter 1: Choices Define Us  
**

_~It is our choices that show us what we truly are...~_

Both men were raised and groomed for their lot in life, both stubborn, and both conditioned to call emotion a weakness. Despite their upbringing, both men loved passionately, and felt betrayal fiercely. Both were reluctant to trust, but when they did, trusted wholeheartedly, expecting the same in return.

Both had tyrants for fathers: tyrants driven mad by a grief they buried, a grief caused by the loss of their loved ones, and hidden under a ruthless exterior. One father blamed the son, the other, magic, and both sons felt the wrath of the father should either cross him.

Both had mothers who died tragically from the repercussions of their father's desires.

Both had a friend who challenged what they thought they knew about life: a friend who helped them see a world that wasn't colored in their fathers' blacks and whites. Though apparently, for both of them, that friend was a liar.

"And you stopped trusting him because of that." Arthur's voice was somber, but thoughtful.

"Yes. He should have told me. He betrayed me. I could have helped him, but he let this go on for too long."

Arthur sighed. He was struggling with this as well. Granted, Merlin had only kept this from him for two years, whereas if what this man was saying was true, then his friend had done it for seven.

"I find it difficult to hate him." the prince said. "He's protected me for ages now. Without him I wouldn't be alive."

The bald man paused, analyzing Arthur carefully. "Clark protected me too. In fact, he saved me after I hit him with my Porsche. That was how we met." Lex's eyes darkened. "Eventually, he even tried to protect me from myself."

He stopped abruptly and heaved down another glass of scotch before laying the glass loudly on the table. "But it doesn't make up for what he did."

Arthur looked cautiously at the man he didn't entirely trust, a man who was, in this moment, reminding him very much of Uther Pendragon. Lex was allowing his hurt to dictate his actions, but the prince knew the man would never admit it.

Arthur wanted to protest that a life saved meant a debt was to be paid, that honor called for Lex to at least allow his friend the chance to explain. But he strongly suspected that Lex's honor had all but disappeared years ago. Refraining from delving into his inner monologue, Arthur attempted to keep his question light. "It doesn't?" he asked, inwardly urging the man to understand.

Lex's angry gaze turned on Arthur and the prince clutched the hilt of his sword reflexively. His honed instincts informed him that it was probably best to keep any further thoughts to himself, at least for the moment, lest he provoke a fight. Lex spoke again, and his detached tone sent a shiver down Arthur's spine.

"Clark lied. He interfered. He turned my wife against me, and he is a threat to the entire damn world, bringing monstrosities like himself to rule us."

Glass shattered and Arthur knew the man's hand must be covered in blood, yet Lex showed no outward pain. Arthur looked out the office window at the city below and wondered if the same was true of Merlin.

Merlin lied.

Merlin interfered with attempts to burn and capture sorcerers.

Merlin could be considered a threat to all of Albion. After all, he was a sorcerer, and his kind could easily destroy the peace and threaten Arthur's land and kingship.

But then, Merlin was too innately good and loyal for that. He believed the best of people, and though he might have had magic in common with the other sorcerers, his heart was different. He fought against the ones who would harm Arthur, to protect him. If Merlin's desire was to rule, it would have already happened. Furthermore, if Merlin hadn't lied, he could have ended up with his head on the chopping block.

Arthur turned to the man in black who was currently silent.

"Lex." He chose his words carefully, knowing this man could be a formidable adversary. "I don't deny it was a betrayal of the highest kind." He paused. "But have you considered that maybe it was an act of self-preservation?"

Lex shifted at that, and Arthur wondered if the man had considered this before.

"If he is an...alien..." Arthur choked on that word, still not entirely understanding the concept of another _planet_. The idea of a land other than Albion was already difficult enough for him to swallow. "...could not things have happened to him, such as torture or death, if anyone had found out?"

Lex continued to be silent and Arthur wondered if that was a good or bad thing. He glanced around nervously at the swords adorning the walls, and was fairly confident if the man decided to use one, Arthur could defend himself. He sighed. The only reason he figured Lex was even giving him the time of day was because he would become _King Arthur_, or so Lex had said with great reverence.

"Suppose he had to keep it from you, because he was afraid that your father would find out and he'd end up dead." Arthur was finding it odd to be arguing from a very _Merlin_ point of view, but felt it necessary under the circumstances.

"I can't speak to his interference, or his coveting of your wife, but I believe that what makes a man is his courage, his wisdom, and the goodness of his heart. Is it not possible that Clark only wishes to protect and serve the greater good? And is it possible that the others who travel from his home world, though alike in ability, are not the same in soul? How do you know that even now he does not fight against them? From what you have told me, he has saved you once from a general who was wanting to use you as a vessel. Does that not prove that he stands with you?"

The silence was palpable, and Arthur wondered if Lex was considering his words or simply planning the best way to cut the prince's head off. Then the man turned around, his blue eyes soft, left hand tied with a handkerchief and the other swishing scotch in a presumably new and nearly empty wine glass.

Lex spoke. "There is a prophecy about us." he said. "It says we were friends. It says that one day I will betray him. Sometimes it's easier to believe that he's the villain, and then I can believe that I'm not."

Arthur sucked in a breath, knowing that any words spoken now could be potentially harmful and provoking.

"It's different for you. Merlin was meant to help you become a great king, and so you have. So you will. I'm meant to be a great villain..." He paused, and said with slight sadness, "And so I am. So I will be."

"A man does not have to follow in his father's footsteps." Arthur said, this time speaking to himself as much as to Lex. "We have the power to challenge the mistakes our fathers make, and the capacity to find our own paths."

Lex appeared to ponder this. "I once thought that way," he said with regret.

Then Arthur saw the darkness that had taken over the man, the mistrust and loneliness eating at his soul, and knew this could be _him_ if he chose that road.

"I cannot condemn Merlin." He said, finally making a decision. "He only acted to protect me, and my kingdom. I will not accept my father's views on magic."

Lex smiled with bitterness. "It seems, then, that it's not too late for you."

Arthur's eyes softened. "Nor for you," he said.

Lex laughed with heavy sarcasm. "I'm afraid it is," he said abruptly, eyes darkening. "There's no coming back from the depths I've sunk to."

He thought of his father's funeral, and the accusation in Clark's eyes, the defiance, and the unspoken vow: _I won't let you get away with this_.

"I killed my father...when he betrayed me." Lex disclosed, in attempt to make the once and future king understand.

"I almost killed mine once," Arthur said, unfazed, "for betraying me: for being responsible for my mother's death."

Lex remembered his own mother holding the pillow over Julian's breathless form. He remembered the pang of loss he felt when he learned she'd passed away while he was at Excelsior Academy. He remembered the hatred he'd felt at his father for the way he'd treated her, and he knew if given the choice, he'd kill Lionel all over again. He paused.

"But you didn't."

Arthur swallowed, knowing the man spoke words of truth. Had Arthur been successful, he was not sure he would be the same man he was today. Lex saw Arthur's expression, and knew he had won this battle of wits. He met the prince's gaze, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Now you know why we're so different."

He laid his glass on the miniature bar before heading for the door.

"It was truly enlightening to have met you, Arthur. In some ways, I feel as though we are one and the same."

With that, he walked out, the disturbed air rustling a small swatch of red cloth threaded with golden strands. Those strands were woven intricately into the emblem of a dragon: the same dragon that sat on the tapestries hanging in the castle's corridors. The prince of Camelot pondered whether this man really _was_ him in the future, but immediately dismissed that thought, for Arthur Pendragon realized the difference between himself and Lex Luthor: Lex was a coward.


	3. Silent Wounds & Lessons Learned

**Disclaimer:** _BBC Merlin_ and _Smallville_ are property of their respective creators, owners and rights holders.

**Author's Note:** This is the third part of a four-shot. I remind you of the note about Sageeth and Naman from the previous chapter.

**Chapter 2: Silent Wounds & Lessons Learned  
**

_"Some of the greatest battles will be fought within the silent chambers of your own soul." -Ezra Taft Benson_

Their lives were parallels, the people in them much the same:

The best friend he'd known nearly forever, and who was loyal to a fault, but always immediately mistrusting of the powerful man who could be dangerous.

The girl he might have loved, had destiny not intervened, but who now had been eternally delegated to the role of friend.

The girl who he'd loved and lost, because fate had other plans for her.

The doting mother, who worried, who loved, who would do anything for her son, and was forced to share him with the world, but never complained. A mother who had lost a husband, and who was strong even now as the ache swept her heart.

The father who sacrificed it all for a son who would bring hope to a world where there was none.

And then there were the two men themselves. They were equally unique, both lonely in a world where they were as gods, both forced to fight the only ones who could understand their struggles and their pain. Both were meant to save a world that surely would go wrong without their presence, born of a destiny that they could not escape, and a weight, a _responsibility_, that neither could lift.

The two silhouettes stood in the driveway, their conversation light with introductions, as the late afternoon sun created shadowy figures on the dirt. Grey clouds were moving in now, preparing for a light shower, but neither of them noticed, preoccupied with more important things. The tall, built man eyed the smaller one with disbelief as he finally decided he could not deny that which was standing in front of him. They'd been speaking for many minutes now, but though they'd already said so much, it was yet so little.

"I was born this way." Merlin said. "I'm told that I'm unique, unlike any other sorcerer, a being of pure magic."

"I was born this way too." Clark said. "I'm supposed to be the last member of my planet, but I'm beginning to think I'm just the last good person, with a couple of exceptions." He paused, realizing Merlin would find his explanation confusing, and attempted to clarify. "Planets, they're other worlds, like a kingdom but larger and separate. You would have seen them in the sky; they look different from stars." Clark paused, still unsure how much Merlin would know. "We're on Earth now but I'm from Krypton."

And though Merlin was offended that Clark thought he wouldn't know what Earth was, he fought to keep himself from asking about planets and Krypton, and what all of that meant.

"So, your um..." He looked at Clark inquisitively.

Clark raised an eyebrow.

Merlin blushed. "The people like_ you, _that is...you speak as if most of them are..."

"Obsessed with power?" Clark supplied. "That's because most of them _are_."

"I was actually going to say corrupt, but that works too."

The man of steel leaned back on the fence, observing the lanky warlock, but not volunteering any other information.

Merlin shifted idly before leaning against the fence next to Clark, his eyes downcast. "I was just wondering, because..." He looked at Clark. "It's the same way with the other sorcerers. They all, well most of them anyway, want to destroy Camelot, or me, or both. Others ask me to join them and rule the world or something equally ridiculous. Seems I'm always fighting them."

Clark sighed. "I know the feeling."

The men paused, taking a moment to ponder that chunk of knowledge, before Merlin piped up with another question.

"Are all the people from your world magic then?"

Clark pitched forward slightly as a loud chuckle escaped from his chest. "_Magic?_" he asked. "Wow, that's...well that's the first time I've heard that one."

"So then how can you do...what you do?" Merlin asked, eyes wide with curiosity. Clark held a laugh of irony at the fact that _the greatest wizard of all time_ was apparently in awe of him.

"The sun gives me my abilities," Clark admitted, an amused look on his face.

"Your powers are not of magic, and yet come from the _sun_?" Merlin sputtered. "How is it that you can draw power from the _sun_?"

The dark-haired, blue-eyed man in front of him fought back a grin at the wizard's puzzled state, but answered in the only way he could. "I wish I knew."

Merlin's eyebrow raised as he realized that Clark knew no more about how he worked than Merlin knew about his own self. Disappointed he wasn't going to get an answer, Merlin folded his arms and demanded. "Show me."

And so Clark did. He motioned his head toward the gravel road and dashed away without another word. Then Merlin blinked, and they were in the same time frame, rain droplets trapped in a frozen dance around them, and they were laughing and running down the deserted back roads. Both men finally toppled over in a grassy field, laying on their backs in the newly wet grass.

"Magic can do that?" Clark asked. "Let you run like I do?"

Merlin shook his head. "I just slow down time. It's something I could always do, though I've refined it over the years."

It would certainly have been a wonder for any of Clark's friends to see him in that moment, with awe and amazement written on his face, as he had seen on them countless times when he whooshed away, stopped a car, or burned an S into a building.

Both men looked up at the sky, not saying anything for minutes. Finally Merlin shifted.

"So it seems we were both raised on a farm," he said with amusement.

"So it seems." Clark admitted.

A sigh sounded from beside him. "You mentioned a Lex. What happened with him?"

Clark could feel the anger rising inside, threatening to boil over, and his fists clenched reflexively, as he jumped to his feet in agitation. He looked off in the distance for a while and just as Merlin wondered if he'd ever answer, Clark said softly, "He betrayed me."

"He didn't accept you." Merlin assumed, unable to think of a more unfavorable outcome. The dread in his gut still lingered, very much reflecting his current situation with Arthur.

To his surprise, Clark replied, "No."

But then what could possibly have caused such a rift between them?

Clark looked down and wrung his hands nervously. "I didn't tell him about me, for seven years. Then he found out."

Merlin sat up abruptly. "_Seven years_?"

The tension in the air was palpable. "Yeah."

One word seemed so insignificant, but it said all Merlin needed to. "Why?"

Merlin watched as Clark whooshed around the field, appearing in different places near to him, and supposed it was the boy's unique way of pacing.

"It's my fault." Clark said suddenly. "My father said he was like Lionel, his father; he said the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I trusted Lex, for a long time, but I couldn't tell him, not with his father so close. And I couldn't be sure that he would accept me, or if he could keep such a secret from his father, even if he'd wanted to."

Blue-green eyes met Merlin's. "I couldn't be sure if he was more loyal to me - or his Luthor heritage."

Merlin collapsed back into the grass, considering Clark's words. They echoed his own thoughts, his own rationale, his own fears.

"I'm still wondering wonder who Arthur will be loyal to." Merlin said, closing his eyes. "The King: his father, or the lowly manservant, who is a sorcerer in a land where sorcery is a crime punishable by death."

Clark sighed. "So then you know exactly how I felt."

Merlin nodded. "I do."

"If Lex ever told anyone...I could have been taken away." He glanced fearfully at the warlock, but the fear was not aimed at Merlin. The warlock could see that it was deeply rooted.

"There are worse things in this world than burning to death." Clark said softly, and Merlin could swear the Kryptonian's voice caught in his throat.

There was a large silence after that, and Merlin refrained from interrupting, for fear of upsetting Clark even more. The man seemed to need time to think, much like Merlin when things became too difficult, or piled high on his shoulders.

Finally, Clark decided to continue. "After a few years, Lex began to change. He became more like his father. I always felt I could've stopped it." Emotion clouded his voice. "Lex once told me that I kept the darkness at bay; that with me around he could be the person he wanted to be, instead of the person the darkness was turning him into."

Merlin felt his eyes wet at the poignancy of that sentence, and chastised himself for being such a girl about it. But then again, this could have been _him_; this could have been _him _and_ Arthur_.

"He wanted to know my secrets, and he snooped behind my back to find them out. I found a room in his mansion, decorated with pictures of me, and scenes from the first accident, when I saved him." Clark looked away sadly. "Lex could never turn a blind eye where there was a mystery involved."

Clark looked at the corn stalks in the distance, and then raised his head to the sky. If Merlin didn't know better, he could swear he saw the man's eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"I saw his darkness...and I ran." The shame in Clark's voice was unmistakable. "I gave up on him, even when he tried so hard to make up for it. Then he changed, and it was too late. All I could do was try to stop the downward spiral. But it came too fast, and I was pitted against him, over and over, until..." His breath hitched. "Until Lex _was_ his father, and I could never tell him, until he found out."

Merlin looked at the ground thoughtfully, legs waving lazily in the air, while he listened intently. He listened, and thought of he and Arthur, lost in a world where this was _them_. He imagined a life where Arthur never let that first save go: never ceased the search for just how Merlin managed to haul him away from the dagger. He pictured a world where he considered telling Arthur, but couldn't, because of his father. That part _had indeed_ been true, even if he was now outed. He thought of finding out that Arthur had gone behind his back to learn what he was doing, of discovering secret rooms in castles and witnessing the darkness Uther had cultivated in the prince. Then Merlin was _there_, and it was _him_ feeling betrayed and utterly lost and _hurt_. It was _him_ running: running to the lake and sitting there, dully staring at the reflective surface, hugging his legs to himself, tears running down his cheeks until someone, probably Gwen or Gaius, came looking, and he _knew_ he would have hated Arthur.

Merlin rolled over onto his back, images passing through his head with increasing intensity. He watched in his mind's eye as Arthur apologized and Merlin didn't accept. He watched as Arthur tried to make it up to him but Merlin pushed him away. He saw Arthur spiral down the same darkened path of madness as his father, and observed as Arthur became the new tyrant king, even more vigilant in the pursuit and destruction of magic than Uther himself. Then Merlin painfully watched himself being burnt on the pyre, when Arthur finally learned the truth.

"Merlin?" Clark's voice called him back to the field and out of the dispiriting possibilities filling his mind.

"I don't know how I would have coped if that had been me." The wizard admitted.

Clark could hear the shakiness in Merlin's voice. "Hey," he said abruptly, sitting across from the wizard. "Are you okay? You look...well, you don't look good."

"Oh _thanks_," Merlin joked, but knew that Clark was right. "I...I was just imagining all of that and..." His breath caught in the lump currently inhabiting his throat.

Clark sighed uncomfortably, not knowing what to say to ease Merlin's fears. Instead, he continued from before.

"Lex and I, we have a destiny," he trailed off.

And Merlin understood that better than anyone. "Are you meant to protect him too?" he asked, wondering how everything could have gone so wrong with Clark and Lex.

Another heavy breath. "No." There was the sadness again, causing Clark's voice to thicken. "We're destined to be enemies."

There was a beat before Clark continued, and Merlin realized there was evidently more to the story.

"When I found out, I didn't believe it. I brushed it off. Then we found the dagger. I was supposed to use it to kill Sageeth, my enemy, before he became a threat. It was foretold that if Sageeth ever touched that knife, it would disintegrate."

He paused, wondering if Merlin understood, but the wizard looked only contemplative.

"It all happened so fast. The dagger got away from me. I watched as both Lex and his father grasped it at the same time. It turned to dust in both their hands. But I've known all along that it was Lex; it was always Lex." He closed his eyes, taking in the air through his nose.

"Once, Lex said to me, when I was just, when something happened to me and I was all _out of sorts_, he said we could be great together, Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, the friendship of legends."

Merlin thought of he and Arthur standing together, presiding over Camelot, and the pride that he felt, the _longing_ for that moment, and he _knew_ how Clark felt.

"Then one day, the same day that dagger disappeared, he came to my home, and said that maybe the hero of the story is _Sageeth_. I wonder sometimes, if he's right. Maybe I _am_ the villain."

Merlin's head shot up at this. "But you're not! You said you saved the city many times, and your friends too. You can't blame yourself for one person, Clark."

And then the images of _Morgana_ came flying back, of the betrayal in her eyes as she drank the poison, and Merlin felt like a hypocrite. Her eyes would haunt him forever, despite the lives he saved as a result of that choice.

"And what about all the damage done because I refused to stop someone before they became a threat?" Clark responded, unaware of Merlin's inner struggle. "Because I refused to _murder_."

Merlin swallowed nervously, Clark's words ringing like a slap to the face, though he couldn't have known how they stung the wizard. Anger tinged with fear and shame crept through him as he remembered Mary Collins, Edwin, Sophia, Aulfric, Nimueh and others. He thought of Mordred, and the dragon's words. He thought of his hesitation, because the boy had seemed innocent.

"I've killed people." Merlin said, disdain directed at himself. "I'm not proud of it."

And the man from another planet was suddenly shocked that the famous sorcerer had crossed that line. He uttered the only words that came to his mind. "How _could_ you?"

Merlin frowned at Clark's accusing tone. "I had _no choice_!"

Clark's reply was biting. "There's _always_ a choice!"

Merlin rubbed his hands along his arms, shivering from thoughts that cooled his core. "You couldn't possibly understand! I did it for Arthur, to save him. I did it for my mother, and for Gaius. There is no joy in killing. There was only ever necessity, for destiny."

And Clark heard Jor-el's words whispering to him: _Your destiny, my son_. Then the anger overtook him: anger that fueled him whenever his father told him that destiny overruled everything.

"You think I don't understand?" he asked incredulously. "I have a destiny too and I _don't kill people_."

Merlin took a deep breath, attempting to calm down before the conversation came to blows. As offended as he was that Clark was judging his life, it wouldn't do to fight with the man.

A hefty frown came over his face before he continued. "I do what I must to protect Arthur from those who would harm him, and to protect his Kingdom: Camelot. That is my destiny. But I cannot stand by and let the people I care about come to harm either. I do not aim to kill. I aim to protect. Sometimes they end up being the same thing."

Clark's anger strengthened with the aching resentment that Merlin's destiny allowed him to protect those he cared about. He stood up, fists clenched. Merlin saw this and rose to his feet, hand outstretched in front of him. Both men stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity before Merlin sighed and sat down again, declaring that this was ridiculous. Clark exhaled and allowed his anger to dissipate, agreeing with the scrawny wizard.

"I'm sorry." He said. "It's just that my destiny forces me away from the people I care about. Jor-el, my birth father, tells me that I have to leave my human life behind, because it affects my choices. I can't say he's wrong. If it came down to Chloe, or Lana, or my mother, I would protect them, and I would pick them first. Jor-el says that's my weakness."

"It is not a weakness to protect the ones you love, regardless of destiny!" Merlin exclaimed. "Don't listen to him."

"I have to look at the greater good."

"Like Morgana, and Camelot." Merlin said, his tone full of defeat. "She was my friend, but she was the vessel for a magic that was going to kill everyone, and I..." He played with a blade of grass. "May the gods help me, but I poisoned her to save the kingdom."

Clark looked at Merlin, seeing the guilt etched onto his features, the weight borne of death, and suddenly the legendary wizard felt so very _foreign_ to Clark.

"I've always avoided killing anyone," he said. "Once, I was told that in order to save the future from destruction, I would have to kill my friend, Chloe. If I didn't, the thing possessing her would take her over, and release a weapon that would kill us all. But I refused to kill her; instead, I chose to save her. I couldn't put the world first, and yet..._you did_. Another time, I was told to kill Lex because he was the vessel for Zod, and I couldn't. I trapped Zod instead. I always found _another way_."

"There wasn't one." Merlin said, "Believe me, I tried _everything_."

But then again, he really hadn't. He hadn't tried talking to Morgana, and telling her what the dragon said, because that would have meant revealing himself, possibly to a dangerous witch. Yet, if he hadn't been protecting himself, Morgana might still be in Camelot. The guilt from that fact was nearly ripping him apart.

"You're right," he suddenly admitted. The Kryptonian looked at the wizard with surprise. "I should have found another way. But I didn't want her to know, I couldn't let her know I had magic, and then it was too late, because we were all falling asleep, and..."

He was embarrassingly close to crying now. Merlin bit his lip. He was _not_ going to cry in front of this man he'd only met hours ago, regardless of their connection. He was _not_ going to cry...he _wasn't_. Ah hell, it was too late for that. Tears escaped and rolled down Merlin's face, falling silently from the curve of his jaw and onto the grass below.

Then Clark knew that though the warlock had killed before, the guilt was eating him inside, and Clark could not find it in himself to add to the man's misery.

He sat back to ponder Merlin's words about Morgana, and then the horrific images came of a seemingly insane Lex kneeling on the cold pavement, eyes wide in awe as the metal of a car bent around Clark's figure. He felt the guilt that coursed through his veins as he whooshed out of the parking lot before Lex could out him, a guilt that persisted even as the memory changed to Lex begging for Clark to break him out of Belle Reve. Clark remembered his father's vehement protests against such an action as well as his own doubts, and his purely self-serving reasons for hesitating, despite appearances otherwise. He had been scared and trying preserve his secret, and then when things went too far for Clark to justify, he tried to rescue Lex from shock therapy. But he'd failed and the damage had been done: Lex had forgotten. Again, he knew what Merlin meant, because he had been willing to risk Lex's life to make sure his secret was safe.

Then Clark drifted slowly to another bitter memory, another consequence of his own selfish desires.

"My dad died, and it was my fault. I wanted Lana, the girl I loved, to live. It all happened because I died once, when I disobeyed Jor-el. He brought me back, but he said there would be a life for a life, and my destiny was too important for me to be the one to die."

Merlin thought of many things in that moment. He saw memories, pictures of Arthur dying in a bed, while Merlin bargained his own life away.

A life for a life; Merlin knew that phrase well. He remembered Nimueh saying it to him on the Isle of the Blessed: _To save a life, a life must be taken_. And it could not be his own.

His destiny was too important for him to die. Gaius' words hung in the air, potent and full of concern: _Your gifts, your destiny are far too precious to sacrifice_.

Merlin remembered the sharp strokes and smudges that formed the writing on Gaius' note, and the sadness and dread that accompanied it: _Your life is destined for greatness; to sacrifice myself for you is but an honor_.

Clark closed his eyes and saw Jonathon, hearing his father's words from the time he had flatlined after taking an experimental drug: _This is your destiny son. I am so very proud that I died protecting you_.

"At first it was Lana that died." Clark said, while Merlin stared thoughtfully at the grass. "I couldn't bear the thought of that and I pleaded with him to change it..."

Merlin saw himself, angry that Nimueh had chosen to take his mother's life.

"And then my father died."

Balinor was so clear in Merlin's mind: the dark hair hanging to his shoulders, the beard around his chin, but also the lifeless eyes and the gushing of blood from a severe wound to his chest, as he fell to the ground in Merlin's arms. The memory faded to Gaius, hugging him so tightly that Merlin thought his ribs would break, followed by the proud words, "My boy!" after he'd sent the dragon away. Unlike Clark, Merlin had gotten to keep a father figure, and he had _killed_ a person to even the balance. This prompted the warlock to ask a question. "Would you, if you could, trade the life of someone who caused you pain, if it meant having him back?"

Clark appeared to ponder this deeply, before responding in earnest. "I don't know."

The two men sat somberly in the field, each deeply immersed in the sadness of their own trials and heartbreak as the wind drifted softly about, ruffling the grass at their feet. Neither said anything for a long time, but no words were needed. They were two souls alike, their hardships the same, and there was nothing that could convey the kinship between them more than their silent understanding.

"My father died recently." Merlin said. "He was a Dragonlord." He knew he should explain, but truthfully, it didn't matter much.

"I met him for the first time, a day before we left for Camelot, to save it. He died in my arms."

And now it was Clark who saw the images, whose heart was torn, and who was back in the driveway, holding his father as he collapsed, dying, to the gravel. And Clark remembered _whose_ fault it was that his father had an unhealthy heart in the first place.

"It was my fault." the wizard continued. "If I hadn't asked him to Camelot; if I hadn't freed the dragon, and he'd hadn't needed to be found to stop the devastation...he'd still be alive."

And then there were pictures of a father who had given up so much to retrieve a son who was hiding his grief in the guise of a red stone.

A weak smile appeared on Merlin's face. "Balinor, my father, hated Arthur's father. He hated him so much because Uther persecuted him and chased him down, like an animal. Uther killed most of the people my father called friends."

Clark saw a younger Jonathon and Lionel standing in the driveway, snatches of a soft conversation drifting to his ears. It spoke of certificates, small boys who could do remarkable feats, and men who could help the Kents hang on to their dream of a son. In the span of a second, the images faded into another mirage, this time of his father's angry face while the keys to a bright red truck danced around his fingers. Jonathon Kent's voice exclaimed that he knew Lionel Luthor would come to collect one day, before he was drowned out by the soft purr of a car starting and Lionel's labored breathing as he left the farm the night that Clark's father had died.

And then there were other memories, of his father telling him the people Lionel had double crossed, relaying the names of his father's friends who had lost their farms to Lionel's business ventures. Pete appeared before him, sporting that betrayed face he always did whenever Clark defended Lex, and Clark _understood_ Merlin's words, more than anyone.

"Uther is still alive while my father lies dead." Merlin said, his voice quivering. "He left me with a souvenir, the only thing I have left of him: a wooden carving of a dragon."

The man from Krypton knew that in this moment something needed to be said: something that would unite their pain.

"My fathers watch." he said, and it was all he needed to.

Merlin let his head drop down to his hands and wondered when the mood had become so somber, so full of tangible sadness.

"My dad, he always wanted the best for me, tried his best to raise me into a good man, and instill me with good and just morals. He also taught me that there are times things have to be done, that I might feel...conflicted...about. But he always taught me not to do things alone."

Clark sighed. "Though I might not have always listened to that last one."

Merlin thought of his own father's words to him. He thought of Gaius telling him he made the right decision, even when he felt it burning a hole in his gut. He thought of all the times he had done things alone and realized something.

"We're much the same," he said.

"We are."

"But we've gone about things differently." The words came out slowly, as if testing the other man's reaction. "Perhaps...we should learn from each others' mistakes."

Clark nodded. "Maybe we should. And maybe we have to learn that things aren't always..." He swallowed. "They aren't always...our fault."

It was Merlin's turn to acknowledge the spoken words, and he copied Clark's gesture.

The men were silent. There were too many coincidences: too many things to ignore.

As they lay on the grass, with the clouds moving above them, Merlin looked at Clark, and for a minute, wondered if there was truly more to their connection than just experience: if maybe, just maybe, they _were_ the same. And though the wizard truly believed in the idea of being reborn, he decided that there was no way that could be true. After all, he mused, exactly how would his soul end up on another planet?


	4. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** _BBC Merlin_ and _Smallville_ are property of their respective creators, owners and rights holders.

**Author's Note:** This is the final part of a four-shot. There are plans for a sequel to this but please don't expect it quite yet! I have two stories I'm working on. Also, I haven't had much response to this story, but there seems to be a nice bit of traffic. The last time a story of mine had few reviews, there was something very off about it that I needed to rewrite. So if you could let me know if it's good, bad, needs to be fixed, etc. I would really appreciate it.

**Epilogue:**

With another golden flash they were back in the same forest they had disappeared from, the horses still tied to the trees nearby, campfire still ablaze, and the acromantula still laying lifelessly on the forest floor. Arthur wondered how long it had been since they'd left, or if time had even passed at all. Then he glanced to his right and saw Merlin hiding in the shadows, afraid to make his presence known. The warlock caught the prince's gaze, and backed away cautiously.

"I'm not going to _kill_ you, Merlin."

The tension nearly evaporated at those words and a wide smile spread across Merlin's face. It was a sly smile, one Arthur recognized as the wizard's expression before a retort. He was not disappointed.

"I would hope not." Merlin quipped, smirk still in place. "After all the times I've saved your sorry ass, I think you'd at least owe me one."

Arthur snorted and swung at Merlin, who ducked. "You're just lucky that you sort of...maybe..._might_ have saved my butt so much."

Merlin laughed. "You still can't admit it."

Then Arthur sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. There was a palpable shift in mood. "I don't want to be like _him_."

Merlin froze, knowing who Arthur was talking about. "You mean Lex."

Arthur nodded. Merlin sighed. Both did not speak but moved with the shared understanding of the need to untie their horses, smother the fire, and return to Camelot. Both thought about the things they had learned, and the two people they had met: people who would likely haunt their lives forever. After they had traveled some distance, Merlin finally spoke.

"Do you think there's hope for them?" he asked.

The prince stared at empty sky, clearly wondering the same. After a few minutes, he answered.

"No." Arthur said forlornly. "He's too far gone."

Merlin shifted, a deep sadness on his face. "You don't think...we'll end up that way?"

Arthur paused. "Do you honestly believe that's possible?"

The warlock considered this, then shook his head. "No, but I had this weird feeling, like..."

He didn't need to finish. "I know." Arthur agreed. He turned to the warlock. "What matters is _now_, Merlin." He said, eyes set with determination.

"Right. Now." Merlin repeated softly.

But a heavy silence had settled in the air as the castle drew closer, and both men somberly contemplated all that they had learned. Neither spoke of it again, but both silently resolved to never become the two they had met.


End file.
